


Just A Glance

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Consensual Underage Sex, Copious Amounts of Come, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Enthusiastic Consent, Eskel Has Feelings (The Witcher), Eskel Has a Big Dick (The Witcher), Fantasy Intersex, Horns, Human/Monster Romance, Incubi don't need internal organs, Incubus Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier is 16, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Kinda sorta age play, M/M, Made Up Biology, Marathon Sex, Minor Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Monster March, Non-Human Genitalia, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Oral Sex, POV Eskel (The Witcher), Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sassy Jaskier | Dandelion, Sex Magic, Sex Work, Size Difference, Succubi & Incubi, Tail Play, Tails, Top Eskel (The Witcher), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: "You don't even know my name.""Don't need it," Jaskier gasps, "not unless you want to tell me. It's not like I'll ever be able to forget you." He pauses, and his eyes shine with mischief when he says, "Unless you're a shit lay, of course."
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 23
Kudos: 143





	Just A Glance

**Author's Note:**

> "My child is fine!" Ma'am, your child projects their penis envy onto fictional characters and gives everyone vaginas.
> 
> Back on my bullshit. Let me give you a couple of visuals for this.
> 
> Jaskier's look was inspired very much by [this gorgeous piece](https://pin.it/bNTtXAL), except with ram horns. The jewellery is stolen shamelessly from my darling boy [Mollymauk Tealeaf](https://criticalrole.fandom.com/wiki/Mollymauk_Tealeaf).  
> The whole thing was kicked loose by the sketch ThirstyOpossum posted [on Twitter](https://twitter.com/ThirstyOpossum/status/1368297239483985923?s=19). I just... I love their art so much.

"We don't serve Witchers here."

Eskel sighs. It's something he's heard far too often at brothels, even before the scars. He's too tall, too broad, too strong, and the girls are too afraid of him to let his coin lure them into bed with him. He makes himself nod at the madam in deference, but as he turns to leave she calls him back.

"There's another… establishment," she says. "They might be willing to take you on. They serve a more, hm, adventurous clientele."

She gives him directions and Eskel decides to try his luck. It's not far and he has nothing better to do, after all.

The brothel is at the edge of the city, a well-kept, surprisingly large building. A sign above the door proclaims its name to be The Peach, and Eskel rolls his eyes at the lack of originality. Ah well.

The first thing he notices when he walks up to the door, however, is the way his medallion starts humming. _Strange_ , he thinks. The humming only increases when he walks inside, cautious now. The door falls closed behind him, and Eskel stops, rooted to the spot.

The inside is filled with non-humans. There's a rather dainty female centaur in one corner, a dwarf and an elf entwined in a really rather indecent embrace, a halfling, a succubus, and that's just here in the main room.

A non-human brothel.

Huh.

The madam spots him with a keen eye, looking him up and down with no small measure of distrust. "What can I do for you, master Witcher?"

The room falls eerily silent as every eye turns to him. Eskel shifts his weight, uncomfortable with the attention. "I… I was sent here. From the other place."

"I see." The woman cocks an eyebrow at him. "You're not going to cause any trouble, are you?"

"No, ma'am. Just. Looking for some company."

"Hm." She studies him a moment longer before waving him over. "Anything in particular you're looking for? Boy, girl?"

"I don't really have a preference."

"Alright. How big is it, then?"

Eskel looks down at her for a second. "What?"

The madam rolls her eyes. "Your dick, lad. How big is it? I've heard stories about Witchers, need to know what we're working with."

"Uh." Eskel is pretty sure that if he were human, he'd be absolutely crimson right now. As it is, he holds up his hands to indicate the size of his cock, and the madam's eyebrows rise.

"Well! That's something, I'd say. Let me think." She taps a painted nail against her lip for a moment, then waves over a serving girl. "Take the Witcher to see Jaskier." The girl gives him a look that is both assessing and apprehensive, and Eskel does his best to look harmless, which he knows is a lost cause.

He follows her up the stairs, wondering what exactly he's gotten into here. His medallion hasn't stopped vibrating and it's distracting, as is the overwhelming scent of sex that permeates the whole building. Finally, on the second floor, they reach a door with a buttercup painted on it, and the girl gives him a nod and leaves as quickly as she can without appearing rude.

Eskel stands in front of the door and wonders if he shouldn't just leave. Then he thinks, what the hell, might as well give it a shot. He knocks on the door, and a moment later a voice calls out for him to come in.

He takes a breath, then opens the door.

The room is dim, candles flickering beside a large four-poster bed. Everything is draped in silks and velvets, crystals glittering in the candlelight. Eskel wonders if maybe this place is above his budget.

"What have we here," a voice says from the bed, and Eskel's medallion _jumps_ where it sits on his chest. He can feel the tendrils of magic as he looks over, and he opens his mouth to admonish the person in the bed, but the breath catches in his throat.

There, lounging against a mountain of pillows, is an incubus. The creature watches him with bright blue eyes, head full of unruly brown hair cocked to the side. Gemstones adorn his horns, curved like those of a ram and jewellery drilled through them, and more glitter in the lobes of his ears. He smiles, showing off very white teeth and very sharp looking fangs.

"What brings a Witcher to a brothel filled with monsters," he asks, and then he leans forward, out of the shadows.

It's a kid. Eskel stares as he curls one hand around his medallion to stop its wild dance on his chest. The longer he looks, the more obvious it becomes: this is a child. A tall, very well developed child, but obviously not of age.

"I… I must have got the wrong door," he mumbles, and the incubus frowns slightly. He slides off the bed, and Eskel's eyes flicker down to his legs. They're naked beneath the cloth the boy wears around his hips, and Eskel can see his tail curl around one slender ankle.

"Did Marta send you to Jaskier?" Eskel nods, and the boy smiles. "Then you have the right room. _I'm_ Jaskier," and he bows with a flourish.

"You're a child," Eskel says, and the boy frowns.

"I'm sixteen."

"So a child."

Jaskier cocks his hip and crosses his arms in front of his chest. There are golden hoops in his nipples. "Incubi are sexually mature at twelve, my dear Witcher. As you surely know."

Gods above.

"I'm leaving. Sorry to have bothered you." He turns away, fully prepared to get the hell out of there, but Jaskier flits past him to stand between him and the door. Eskel's muscles tighten, anticipating a fight.

"There are two reasons why Marta would send you to me. Either you like your whores young, which you obviously don't." A slow smile spreads over his face. It looks almost predatory. "Or you possess certain… attributes that a succubus or incubus is best suited to accommodate."

Eskel blinks at the boy, confused. "What?"

Jaskier chuckles and blows a lock of hair out of his face. "It means you must be hung like a godsdamned horse."

Now Eskel feels the heat rising in his cheeks, and Jaskier laughs softly. He clears his throat. The medallion thrums in his hand.

"So it's that," Jaskier says silkily, and then he pushes himself away from the door. "Come on, Witcher. What have you got to lose? I can be good for you, and you _know_ I'm not a human child."

The horrible thing is, Jaskier is right. Incubi do mature much earlier than humans, and even if he looks young, he's an adult by incubus standards. Jaskier must sense his internal struggle.

"I won't force you, obviously. Doubt I could." He looks up at Eskel from beneath thick, dark lashes, smiling. "But I would be sad to see you leave." He reaches out a hand, slowly, and slides the backs of his fingers over the front of Eskel's codpiece. "I _really_ want to know what hides under here."

Eskel can feel his defences crumbling, faster the longer he looks at Jaskier. The boy is pretty, plush lips and rosy cheeks, with the first wisps of dark hair on his chest, and his free hand moves entirely of its own volition, cupping Jaskier's cheek. "Are you sure?"

Jaskier's eyes flutter as he nuzzles into Eskel's palm. "It would be both my professional and personal pleasure." He hums, turning even more into Eskel's touch. "Peculiar."

"What?" The Witcher strokes his thumb over the curve of Jaskier's cheekbone, and the boy hums.

"My skin, it… tingles, where you're touching me."

Oh, right. That.

Slowly, Eskel slides his hand down, over Jaskier's throat, and the boy moans, his eyes falling shut. His pulse is racing by the time Eskel thumbs at a pierced nipple. " _Fuck_ , what is that?"

"It's my magic," Eskel says, and blue eyes flutter open. "Witchers can't do proper spells, just our signs, but I suppose I could've been a mage. I've been told my touch feels good for magic users."

Jaskier grins and winds a slim hand around Eskel's wrist. "Take it from me, it feels fucking amazing." He strokes Eskel's fingers with his own. "I want to know what these feel like inside me."

Now Eskel moves closer. "That can be arranged."

The boy shudders and closes the distance. "Less talking, more fucking." He tips his head back to press a kiss to Eskel's mouth but Eskel catches hold of one of his horns, holding him in place. Jaskier whines.

"You don't even know my name."

"Don't need it," Jaskier gasps, "not unless you want to tell me. It's not like I'll ever be able to forget you." He pauses, and his eyes shine with mischief when he says, "Unless you're a shit lay, of course."

He can't help it, he laughs at that, and Jaskier smiles brightly. "Well," the Witcher says, "I've been called adequate before."

Jaskier's grin widens. "I'll be the judge of that, my dear."

The endearment sends a bolt of heat racing down Eskel's spine, and he ignores the voice that tells him it's just a whore plying his trade. Lying is what Jaskier does for a living, after all, but he decides not to dwell on that. Instead, he tightens his grip on Jaskier's horn and pulls him closer, until their breath mingles between them.

"Name's Eskel," he murmurs, and Jaskier's eyes slide closed. The Witcher takes another moment to just look at him, at the way those dark lashes fan out over his cheeks, at the pink tongue peeking out between his lips. The boy is either a very good actor, or he really, truly wants it.

He closes the distance between them, kissing Jaskier, and the incubus moans into his mouth, his hands fisting into the front of Eskel's jacket. The room smells like lust all of a sudden, so potent it makes Eskel dizzy, and he shoves his medallion into his tunic and winds an arm around the boy, pulls him against his chest. Jaskier moans again, his arms going around Eskel's neck.

It's heady, and Eskel could lose himself in this easily. He's immune to incubus magic, true, but not to the charms of this boy, it would seem. Jaskier carefully drags sharp fingernails over the back of his head, and now it's Eskel's turn to moan as shivers race down his back. The boy's tongue flicks over his lower lip, then dips into the notch in the upper one, and Eskel opens for him, lets him deepen the kiss.

Jaskier tastes like mint, and something animalistic, betraying his non-humanness. Eskel doesn't care. He sucks the boy's tongue into his mouth, earning himself another moan, and the hand holding Jaskier close slides down, over his back to where the boy's tail is twitching animatedly. He takes a firm hold of it, rubbing his thumb against the base, and Jaskier goes boneless with a guttural groan.

"Oh fuck, that's- _Yes_ , that feels so good," he moans, and Eskel squeezes, tugs gently. Jaskier shakes all over. "Bed, now."

Eskel releases him with a chuckle, and Jaskier takes him by the hand and leads him over to the bed. Eskel can't stop his eyes from straying down to the kid's arse, the plump cheeks peeking out of the sides of his loincloth as he walks. He wants to sink his teeth into them, Eskel realises.

Jaskier turns around and reaches for the buckles of his gambeson, a hunger in his eyes, and Eskel gives him a nod. The boy gets to work with a gleeful smile, peeling back all of Eskel's layers until the Witcher is naked, and it's endearing how he presses a hand to his mouth as he looks Eskel over.

"Gods, it's like someone took the image of the perfect man from my head and plopped you down on my doorstep." His fingers dance over Eskel's arms, over his pecs, and then down. The medallion burns against Eskel's skin, and he pulls it off, dropping it on the nightstand. 

When one slim hand wraps around his cock, Eskel groans, his eyes slipping closed. Jaskier moans softly. "Fuck, I can't even get my fingers around it." He presses closer, shivering at the contact. "You'll make me lose my mind, Witcher," he breathes before he kisses Eskel again, and now the Witcher can sense the desperation, the need.

"Tell me something," he says as he strokes his hands along Jaskier's flanks. His cock slides between the boy's thighs. "I know your kind lives off the seed of the men you get into your bed." The boy looks up at him, a question in his gaze. Eskel smirks. "Have you ever been truly, completely full?"

Jaskier stares up at him. Then he smiles, so wide and excited. "You're joking." Eskel shakes his head as he reaches down and grabs hold of the boy's arse with both hands, kneading the supple flesh. Jaskier's eyes flutter. "I will hold you to that promise, dear Witcher."

Eskel wastes no more time. He divests Jaskier of his loincloth before he hauls him up, one hand dipping between the boy's legs. He curses when his fingers find him hot and slick already, and Jaskier arches in his hold, panting sweetly against Eskel's cheek. The Witcher lines himself up with the boy's leaking cunt, using the slick all but dripping from Jaskier to ease the way, and then he pushes in.

The incubus makes a high, surprised sound, his fingers digging into Eskel's shoulders as he holds himself up. " _Oh_ _fuck_ , fuck, that's- _How-_ "

"Witcher mutations," Eskel rasps as he slowly, carefully lowers Jaskier onto his cock, the noises the boy is making like the sweetest music. "We're all gifted."

Jaskier laughs breathlessly. "You can- _ah_!- say that again!" He rolls his hips slowly, trembling in Eskel's arms, and soon he is entirely stuffed full with Eskel. "Gods, today must be my lucky day," he gasps, shaking like a leaf in the Witcher's arms.

Eskel, for his part, needs a moment to adapt to this strange new reality. He has never, not once, managed to sink himself fully into anyone. Geralt tries his best every time they meet, but even Witchers have internal organs and bends and curves in their innards that make the process difficult. Jaskier, it seems, has none of these problems. Eskel just slides into him smooth as anything, and it takes him a moment to realise he's holding onto the boy too tightly, his fingers leaving marks where they're pressed into his pale skin.

The incubus doesn't seem to care. He's breathing hard, his arms wound around Eskel's neck, and his tail twitches restlessly, the tip brushing against Eskel's leg. His small cock is a hot brand against Eskel's stomach. "Move, oh sweet goddess, _please move_ , Eskel, I need-"

Eskel complies with a groan, lifting the boy slowly, the drag making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jaskier is properly dripping, now, his slick running down the length of Eskel's cock and over his balls, and his cunt makes a filthy squelching sound when Eskel pushes back in. "Jaskier," is all he can bite out, and the boy's arms tighten around his neck.

"Come on, Witcher," he gasps, lips brushing against Eskel's scarred cheek, "wreck my little hole. I want you to fucking _ruin me_ ." He _licks_ over the scars, his tongue so slick and hot, and Eskel growls, his fingers digging into his flesh harder. "You _promised,_ " Jaskier whines, and what little restraint Eskel still possesses evaporates like water in the desert.

He almost yanks Jaskier off of his cock and tosses him onto the bed. The incubus yelps as he bounces on the mattress, and then Eskel is on him. He flips the boy onto his front and pulls him onto hands and knees, and Jaskier mewls, arching his back. Eskel shoves two fingers into him, then three, and Jaskier pants and just begs for more.

"Please, Eskel, please give me your cock, please, please, please-"

Eskel doesn't. Instead, he kneels behind the boy and winds an arm around his thighs, lifting him up. He bites into one round cheek, then the other, making Jaskier squeal delightfully. Then he replaces his fingers with his tongue, and Jaskier twitches, his tail lashing through the air as he cries out. Eskel grins into his flesh, sucking at the boy's lips, fucking his tongue into him. His face is covered in slick as he eats Jaskier's cunt like his life depends on it, and the incubus thrashes in his grip, a constant refrain of, "Yes, yes, _fuck yes_ , Eskel, please, oh gods, it _tingles, fuck_ ," that sounds so desperate it makes Eskel's head spin.

It's easy to reach around the boy's legs and cup his little cock, and it only takes a few pulls until Jaskier howls with his orgasm, cunt twitching and soaking Eskel's face in even more slick. He doesn't stop, just switches his attention from Jaskier's cunt to his arse, and the incubus wails and jerks in his grip.

"Eskel, fuck, so good, so fucking good to me, my darling Witcher." He's gasping for breath, muscles twitching, and he reaches down and pulls the hand Eskel used to pull him off with to his face. It takes Eskel a moment to understand what is happening, focused as he is on licking the boy's arse open. Then he feels the wet heat of Jaskier's tongue against his skin, realises the boy is sucking his own spend from Eskel's fingers.

The Witcher surges forward, the hand he used to hold the boy up moving to his hip to hold him in place, and Eskel ruts against him in a thoroughly undignified manner until his cockhead catches on Jaskier's slit. He slams into him with a sudden sense of desperation, and as Jaskier screams and collapses, his arms giving way under two hundred pounds of Witcher, Eskel wonders if he really is as immune to the boy's magic as he thought.

Nothing about their coupling is tender, all of the restraints Eskel usually places on himself gone up in smoke. He fucks the incubus with his full strength, sheathing himself inside the wailing boy over and over, and all Jaskier does is urge him on, begging for more, harder, faster. A part of him, the one not currently going crazy at having found the perfect hole to fuck, is worried that maybe the boy's cries will bring the madam's wrath down upon him, but then Jaskier tightens around him, screaming in undeniable ecstasy as he comes again, and all thoughts beyond breeding the kid's tight cunt are gone from his head.

Jaskier gasps and moans under him, hips tilted up, and Eskel reaches between them to take hold of the boy's tail, earning himself a startled full body twitch. "Gods yes, touch me, fuck, Eskel, please, please touch me…"

Eskel does, stroking at the base of the tail the same way he did before, and Jaskier goes completely limp under him with a gurgle, his eyes fluttering. For a second, Eskel falters, his thrusts slowing, and he strokes the knuckles of his free hand over the boy's cheek. "Jaskier?"

The incubus smiles drunkenly. "'Sgood," he slurs, cunt clenching around Eskel's cock, and then the boy forces his eyes open to look up at him. His pupils are completely blown. "Keep going," he breathes, looking for all the world like he has been reamed for hours instead of what can't have been more than ten minutes.

"You sure?" Eskel strokes the tail again, and Jaskier shivers so violently his teeth chatter.

"Y-yeah, _fuck_ , please, Eskel, please fill me up, _please_." He reaches up and grabs the hand still stroking his cheek, pushes it up towards his horns, and Eskel is powerless to refuse.

The Witcher pushes himself up onto his knees, pulling Jaskier up with him. One hand takes a firm hold of one of the boy's horns, the other grabs the base of his tail, and Jaskier, face pressed into the mattress, sighs softly.

The pace Eskel sets is still hard, and deep, and Jaskier moans and begs so prettily, but it's slower now, and the next orgasm he pulls from the boy like this is more of a tease for both of them. Jaskier squirms through it, his tail twitching in Eskel's grip, and then he pushes himself up onto his hands again.

"Please, Eskel, you _promised_!"

He did, didn't he? Eskel hums and adjusts his grip on Jaskier's horn, and now he fucks the boy with purpose, just the way he asked for: hard and deep and fast, and Jaskier gasps and whines and screams, and when he comes again, he pulls Eskel over the edge with him.

It may be trite, but Eskel sees stars when he comes, hears his blood rushing in his ears. Jaskier's cunt tightens around him like a vice, milking him for all he's worth, and Eskel is only too happy to oblige. His orgasm drags on and on as he keeps filling the boy's guts, and Jaskier moans and writhes in his grip. Faintly, Eskel can hear something clattering, a noise that goes on and on and then cuts off abruptly, but he can't be bothered, too busy coming his brains out.

Finally, after what feels like eons, it stops, and Eskel is left panting against Jaskier's shoulder, one arm wound around the boy's chest, holding him close. He chuckles breathlessly. "Fuck, that was…"

Jaskier, also breathing heavily, smiles, looking sleepy and sated. "That, my darling Witcher, was the best damn meal I've had in years."

Again that endearment, and Eskel feels it almost like a physical touch, like a gentle caress down his spine. "Why do keep saying that?"

Jaskier blinks at him over his shoulder. "Say what?"

"You keep saying 'my dear' and 'darling'. Why?"

Now the incubus flushes prettily. "It's… just something I do. And…" He bites his lower lip, averting his eyes. "I like you. A lot."

Eskel chuckles humourlessly. "Think about that again when you're not come drunk."

Jaskier frowns, then nudges him with his elbow until Eskel rolls to the side. They both hiss as he slides out of the boy, and then Jaskier turns to face him. "I'm not that high that I don't know what I'm saying, Eskel." He reaches up, hesitates for a second, then molds his palm to Eskel's cheek. "I mean it: I like you. Not just because your dick is a gift from the gods or because I could probably live for a week off of the amount of come you fucked into me." He shuffles closer, until they're pressed together from chest to knee. "I like _you_."

Eskel can't do anything but stare. He can tell that this is not an act, that Jaskier is telling the truth. He doesn't know what to say to that, unused to affection outside of what his family provides him, and he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the boy's lips. He hopes that that is enough.

The incubus hums and rests his head against Eskel's shoulder, accepting his non-answer. He smells soft and sleepy, and Eskel nuzzles his hair, breathing him in. Before he knows it, he has drifted off into sleep.

* * *

When Eskel wakes again, the room is awash with candlelight, and he blinks up at the bed's canopy for a long moment, trying to get his bearings. He can hear the crackle of a fire, and soft humming, and the splash of water, and when he turns his head on his pillow, he can see Jaskier sitting by the fireplace on the other side of the room. He has a bowl with water placed before the fire, and he is washing himself with a sponge with slow, unhurried movements. The light glints along his jewellery, the precious stones sparkling, the metal adorning his nipples blinking at Eskel.

The Witcher just lies there, watching the incubus, until Jaskier drops the sponge into the bowl. he turns to look at Eskel, smiling softly.

"Enjoying the show?" Eskel hums, and the boy's smile widens. "Good." He rises to his feet, still gloriously naked, and comes back to the bed, his tail swishing behind him as he walks. It rises into the air as he climbs onto the bed, and Eskel lifts a hand and cups Jaskier's jaw when he comes within reach. The incubus huffs a soft laugh. "Hi."

"Hey." Eskel tugs gently, and Jaskier comes, lets himself be coaxed into a kiss, slow and deep. When they part, Eskel sighs. "I should go."

Jaskier's face falls. "But you promised to fill me up." He shuffles closer on his knees, then moves to straddle Eskel, but the Witcher stops him with a gentle hand on his knee. Jaskier's brows knit together. "Eskel…"

"I can't afford it," he says quietly, not looking at Jaskier. "Hell, I don't even know if I can afford that first time."

The boy frowns harder. "That doesn't matter, Eskel."

"It does. I don't… I don't want to get banned from this place."

Jaskier sucks in a surprised breath. "You want to come back?"

Now Eskel looks back up at him. "Yeah, I do. But… I'll have to save up for it."

The boy hums, and then he pushes Eskel's hand away from his knee with surprising strength before he straddles him smoothly. "I'll get you a discount," he says softly, rubbing himself against Eskel's cock, and the Witcher's eyes slide closed.

"Jaskier…"

"Yes?" His voice is soft and sweet, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and he rocks against Eskel. He's already wet, coating Eskel's cock with his slick as the Witcher hardens under his ministrations.

"The madam will be angry," he tries, even as his hands move to Jaskier's hips, guiding him gently. Jaskier snorts.

"Marta can kiss my arse. I fuck who I want, and my shift is over anyway."

That hits Eskel square in the chest. Having to fuck him because he's a paying customer, that Eskel is used to. Someone _wanting_ to fuck him of their own volition? Nearly unheard of ever since he got his scars. "Really?"

Jaskier smiles, flashing his fangs. The jewellery dangling from his horns bounces as he nods. "Hmm. Half an hour ago." He leans down, presses a kiss to the tip of Eskel's nose. "Didn't want to wake you, you looked like you needed it."

He had needed it, Eskel realises, and directly after that something occurs to him that takes his breath away: he slept deeply, deep enough to not notice Jaskier leaving the bed or getting the water.

He felt safe enough to sleep that deeply, and isn't that a terrifying thought.

"Besides," Jaskier continues, grinding down harder against Eskel's thickening cock, "I didn't want you to leave just yet."

"I did promise you more," Eskel says wryly, and Jaskier smiles softly.

"That, too." He tilts his head and licks along Eskel's lower lip, and Eskel grabs hold of one horn again, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. The entire room is drenched in the scent of the boy's arousal, and Eskel sucks on his tongue for a moment before he tugs him up, licking along his throat. Jaskier moans, hips rutting forward. "Gods, Eskel, that feels amazing."

"So do you, buttercup." He wants to mark that pale throat, he realises, wants to sink his teeth into it, wants to stake his claim, but that is a dangerous thought. Even if Jaskier fucks him now because he wants to and not because he's being paid to do it, Eskel still _has_ no claim on him. The thought curls bitterly in his gut.

Soon, Jaskier is gasping again, his tail twitching behind him. "Want you in me," he moans, hips moving, and Eskel reaches behind him, makes to push his fingers into his cunt, but Jaskier grabs his hand and shakes his head. "No," he breathes, guiding Eskel's hand to drag through the slick leaking out of him before he redirects it to his arse. "Here."

Eskel groans, and does as he's bid. He slicks his fingers up properly before he pushes one into Jaskier's tight hole, and the boy sighs, his head falling back. The Witcher takes his time, fingering the squirming boy open like he has all the time in the world, and when four sink into him easy as pie, Jaskier runs out of patience.

"Now, please, need you, Eskel," and he lifts himself up on his knees, slim hands spread across the Witcher's chest for balance. Eskel looks down. Jaskier's little cock is drooling onto his stomach, onto his own cock, and the juxtapositions of their sizes is almost comical. Jaskier seems to sense his distraction, and he digs the tips of his nails into Eskel's chest. "Witcher!"

Eskel looks up at him. The boy looks half mad with lust, eyes wide and glistening, pupils blown, his breathing fast. Eskel hums and reaches around again, gently taking hold of Jaskier's cock, stroking him carefully. "Want my cock that badly?"

Jaskier shivers and moans, hips twitching into the grip Eskel has on him. "Yes, I'm _starving,_ Eskel, you have to give it to me."

"Didn't you say you could live off my first load for a week?" He twists his wrist just so and Jaskier gasps, his cunt leaking copiously.

"Details," he breathes and Eskel chuckles.

"Alright, come here, pretty thing." He grabs his own cock and guides it to Jaskier's cunt, pushing just the head inside and fully ignoring the boy's protests. Only when he is satisfied with the amount of slick spread over him does he pull back and guide himself to Jaskier's arse. He holds himself steady, his cockhead just kissing the boy's now loose rim, and Jaskier mewls softly. Eskel smiles. "Go on. You want it, take it."

Jaskier _growls_ , baring his teeth, and then he pushes his hips down, at a pace that would tear a human to pieces. Eskel stares as his cock disappears in the tight clutch of Jaskier's body, and the incubus shudders, ecstatic. " _Fuck_ , how are you so _big_?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just starts fucking himself on Eskel's dick, his own bouncing between them, and Eskel has to close his eyes and breathe for a moment to stop himself from barreling straight off the edge that is right in front of him suddenly.

"Jaskier, slow down, you'll-"

The boy laughs, high and breathless. "I'll what, hurt myself? If I wanted I could take both your fist at the same time, my dear," he gasps, and Eskel grabs him by the hips, using his full strength to hold him still. Jaskier whines and fights, and Eskel glares at him, teeth bared.

"Fucking stop that or this will be over _very_ soon."

Jaskier whines again, twisting in his grip. His insides clench and flutter around Eskel, pulling a deep groan from him. "How long does it take you to get hard again?" He's looking down at the Witcher, an undeniable challenge in his eyes, and Eskel sighs before he releases him. Jaskier almost purrs as he leans down and kisses him softly.

The rest of it is a heady, dreamlike rush. Eskel keeps his promise - by the time they are done, Jaskier carries a little bump of a belly, filled with so much come it shows. He lies back on the pillows, sweaty and completely fucked out, and Eskel thinks he's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

"I need to go," he says softly, and Jaskier whines in protest again.

"No, you need to get your gorgeous arse over here and let me cuddle you."

Eskel chuckles. "It's almost morning, Jaskier."

"Hm, exactly. _Almost_. Leaving now would be stupid." He reaches for him, clearly not taking no for an answer. "Come on, darling, for me? Please?"

The Witcher sighs, and tries not to think about how easy it is for the kid to convince him.

Later, when the sun is up and he's dressed again, he picks up his medallion from where it rolled under the bed. He vaguely recalls the odd noise he'd heard, and he realises it must have been the medallion, vibrating straight off the table when they came. Eskel smiles to himself, feeling a curiously pleasant warmth in his guts, and tucks the medallion into his tunic as he walks out the door.

* * *

It becomes part of Eskel's routine. Whenever he is in the area, he visits The Peach, and Jaskier is always delighted to see him. Eskel doesn't care that it's expensive, it's worth it both because the novelty of sinking fully into a warm, willing body has yet to wear off, and also - maybe even more so - because Jaskier seems to genuinely enjoy his company, even when Eskel is not pumping him full of his seed.

It's odd, but then again maybe it isn't. Jaskier loves an audience, and Eskel is more than happy to listen to him tell him about a book he read, or to have Jaskier sing for him. The boy has a good voice, and he plays the lute well enough.

"Have you ever thought about doing something else with your life," Eskel asks one night, almost a year after their first encounter. Jaskier is resting in the crook of his arm, fingertips tracing a scar on Eskel's ribs. They spent two hours fucking, two hours that culminated in Jaskier choking himself on Eskel's cock while Eskel pushed his fist into the boy's cunt, and Jaskier has been dozing on and off for a while now, pleasantly full and exhausted.

Now he blinks open those sky blue eyes, tilting his head to look up at Eskel. "How do you mean?"

"Just… not working here." There's a seedling of what Eskel thinks might be jealousy unfurling in his stomach. Which is stupid. Jaskier is a whore, has been as long as Eskel has known him. He knows having sex with others is his job.

The boy chuckles and rubs his cheek against Eskel's chest. "What else would I do?"

"You could be a bard. You play well, and your voice is beautiful."

Jaskier flushes slightly at the praise but the smile on his lips is melancholic. "And what would I live off? Here, I get all the come I want. Out there I'm likely to starve, unless I use my magic." His lips thin. "And I'd rather people come to my bed willingly."

Eskel just grunts in acknowledgment. There's nothing else he could say to that. Or rather, that he _should_ say.

The silence stretches, until Jaskier murmurs, "I do have a proposal." His eyes are heavy-lidded and a bit hazy with fatigue. Eskel pulls him closer.

"What's that?"

"I was thinking… If you didn't mind, that maybe I could… come with you?"

Eskel freezes, his hand stilling where he'd softly been stroking the curve of Jaskier's shoulder. The idea hits him like lightning. Traveling with the boy, always having someone to return to, someone who looks at him with affection… It's ridiculously tempting.

It's why he has to refuse.

"You can't," he says quietly, ignoring the ache in his chest.

Jaskier doesn't say anything for a moment, his fingers stilling against the scar. Then he says, very quietly, "Because I'm a monster."

"What? No, Jaskier, no, that's not- Because _I'm_ a _Witcher_. I sleep in the forest and all I have is what fits in my saddlebags. You…" He swallows thickly. "You deserve better."

The incubus has gone very still where he lies pressed against Eskel, and it's at least a minute before he tilts back his head and looks at him. He reaches up and cups Eskel's scarred cheek, runs his thumb along the line of the disfigurement. "Good, darling Eskel," he murmurs. "You think that I need any of this?" He nods at the room at large, then shakes his head. His jewellery glitters. "It's nice to have, yes, but it comes at a price. I…" The incubus falls silent, looks away, and now he smells nervous.

"You, what? Jaskier?" Eskel can feel his heart beating faster, just a little, just enough to be noticeable, and he pulls Jaskier just a bit closer.

"I don't… I don't want to do this, not really. I do it because it's easy, and it's safe, but… There's only one man I _want_ , Eskel." He looks at the Witcher again, blue eyes guarded, and Eskel's stomach swoops.

"Jaskier…"

The boy rolls away, out of his embrace. Eskel watches, helpless, as he scoots to the edge of the mattress. His tail curls around himself, and his shoulders hunch forward. He looks, and smells, absolutely miserable. "Maybe you should leave. I don't… I'm sorry, I ruined everything, didn't I?" He chuckles bitterly, his hands tightening into fists. "I'm such an idiot," he whispers, and Eskel can smell salt on the air.

"You're not an idiot, Jask."

"Aren't I? Because from where I'm standing it looks like I am. Falling for a customer is something only an idiot would do."

The meaning of Jaskier's words hits Eskel like a punch to the chest. Suddenly he can't breathe, can only watch helplessly as Jaskier gets to his feet.

Falling for a customer. Falling _in love_ with a customer, with _Eskel_. The thought is so outrageous that he can't make sense of it.

Jaskier walks over to his vanity, his fingers brushing aimlessly over the items piled there. His tail, usually so agile and animated, remains curled around his waist, as if he's hugging himself with it. Eskel pushes himself up to sitting, the blanket pooling in his lap. The incubus has stilled, hand resting on his jewellery box. There are tears dripping from the cut of his jaw, and Eskel moves.

He's off the bed and by the boy's side in a moment, pulling Jaskier against him, but the boy keens like he's been punched. Eskel grimaces. "Jaskier, I-"

"Please, Eskel, please go, I can't- I can't do this. I should never have said anything, I made a mess of everything and I-"

Eskel leans down and kisses him, cupping the boy's face in both hands, and Jaskier whimpers, his arms going around Eskel's neck. He clings to the Witcher like he thinks he might just disappear into thin air. When they part, Jaskier is still crying, and Eskel holds him close, pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his horns. Finally he says, so quietly, "You didn't ruin anything. It would make me… so happy if you came with me, but only if you're really sure. Life on the Path is hard."

Jaskier's smile trembles. "I know that. I didn't always live like this, Eskel, I know what it's like out there."

He hums. "That's why you should stay here. You deserve to have a soft bed every night, not a bedroll on the ground somewhere."

"Well, so do you, and I don't see you about to give up your Witchering."

Eskel laughs. He can't help it. "Alright, buttercup, I see trying to change your mind is useless."

Jaskier presses closer, brushing his lips over Eskel's cheek. "It is indeed." For a moment they stay like that, just holding onto each other, and then. "I meant what I said, you know. I'm… I'm in love with you, Eskel. It's not something my kind is supposed to do. It limits us, endangers us if our lover can't provide what we need." Now he tips his head back, eyes sparkling as he smiles at Eskel. "That is obviously not a problem with you."

"No," Eskel says, a soft growl in his voice, "it's not."

* * *

They leave The Peach behind three days later. That's how long it takes Jaskier to get his affairs in order, to sell off the things he can't or doesn't want to take with him.

When Eskel comes into the room on that last day and sees him wearing his glamour for the first time, he almost trips over his own feet. Jaskier's human guise is just as pretty as his true form, with the same mop of dark hair and the same blue eyes, but he looks… more innocent, somehow. Eskel winces at the thought of a man many people already see as little better than the monsters he slays travelling with a soft-looking little thing like that.

"You look like a child," he tells Jaskier, and the boy sniffs haughtily.

"I am a child, my dear. At least in human years." His gaze turns sly. "Why, does the way I look make you uncomfortable?"

"People will get ideas."

"And those ideas would be correct." He pushes him down on the bed and crawls into Eskel's lap, schooling his face into something soft and vulnerable. "Just think what it must look like. The big, mighty Witcher forcing that poor, helpless boy to take his enormous cock into his little hole." He bites his lower lip as he rocks against Eskel, and the Witcher growls as he pulls him down against his thickening cock.

"You are going to cause so much trouble."

Jaskier giggles. "Hm, I might." He bats his lashes at him. "Guess you'll have to punish me when that happens."

 _Gods_ , Eskel thinks as he pushes a hand into Jaskier's trousers, _Geralt will give me so much shit for this._ But then Jaskier moans as Eskel sinks a finger into his slick heat, and all he can think is, _Worth it._

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/formerly_as_g?s=09)!


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